


Adventures in Babysitting

by startraveller776



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 01:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20322568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startraveller776/pseuds/startraveller776
Summary: They  figured  since  she’d  done  such  a  good  job  of  turning  Thor  around,  why  not  send  her  Loki, too?  Only  Jane  Foster  isn’t  quite  so  happy  to  have  become  the  favorite  babysitter  to  the  errant  princes of  Asgard.  (Post-Avengers  canon  divergence  AU)





	1. Unwelcome Responsibilty

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this as a series of one shots in my old 100 Themes collection, but thought I could put it together here as one piece.

“Explain this to me again?”

“My father believes that you might be of use in…restoring my brother—as you were of great benefit to me.”

Jane massaged her temples. The headache she felt coming on earlier was in full force now. “Yeah, I got that part. I guess I was just hoping the second time around it would make more sense. Apparently not.”

Thor’s expression softened. Beautiful, heroic Thor who hadn’t kept his promise to return in over a year—though she now knew why. “Jane, I do not relish leaving him alone in your care, but Father will soon return to the Odinsleep, and I must rule in his place.” He reached for her hand across the table. “Heimdall will look upon you, and I will return if there is need.”

Jane believed him. This was Thor, after all. There was just one teeny-tiny problem: he was speaking as if she had already agreed to this crazy plan. And she so did not. “I’m going to have to pass.”

Thor’s brow furrowed. “Pass? Pass where?”

She almost chuckled at his adorable cluelessness. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I respectfully decline the job of taking in a deadly psychopath and turning him into a model Asgardian,” she said, trying to use all the words Thor would understand. With a quick glance to the shackled and muzzled dark-haired man standing near the table, she added, “No offense.”

Loki’s pale eyes glinted dangerously in response—another reason this was a very, very bad plan.

Thor was silent for a minute, his mouth drawn out in a tight line. “Unfortunately, this is not a request.”

“Not a request,” Jane repeated the words as if saying them out loud would suddenly change their meaning. “Let me get this straight. You guys were sitting around wondering what to do about the black sheep in the family and your dad said, ‘Hey, what about that Jane girl? She did all right by Thor. Let’s send her Loki!’ And I don’t get a say in any of this!?”

She dropped her voice and leaned forward, pointing at the deadly psychopath in question. “Do you remember what he _did_ last time he was here? You’re asking me—no scratch that. You’re _telling_ me that I have to harbor a man who is responsible for an alien invasion that killed dozens of people—not to mention that he did some mind-controlling thing to one of my dearest friends. And I’m supposed to be okay with this plan?”

Thor winced. “It is not ideal, I agree, but…” He paused with a heavy sigh. “Loki is my brother, and if there is a chance for him, I will take it. There is no one in the nine realms that I would entrust with his care other than you. You have a good heart and a clever mind, Jane.”

Jane’s stomach sank like a ball of lead. “Please don’t tell me this was your idea.”

“No, it was not.” Thor shook his head and redeemed himself in Jane’s eyes. “I argued against this, but it has been decided.” He shrugged as if to say, “All-powerful god-like dads. What can you do?”

The lack of choice grated on her, even if it didn’t seem to bother Thor. Maybe it was her democratic upbringing, but she wasn’t about to bow and scrap just because a king from another planet decided to throw her life into madness. Sorry, buddy. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

“No,” Jane said, mustering all of her bravado in the face of Thor’s puppy-dog expression. “I can’t do it, and if you leave him here, I’ll…” She gulped. “I’ll turn him over to SHIELD.”

Loki slammed his manacled hands against the table, making her jump. He glared at her, conveying with his unnaturally striking eyes every way in which he could exact the utmost agony from her before finally giving her the relief of death.

“Do you see this?” she said to Thor, wavy a shaky hand toward his evil brother. “He’ll kill me. You don’t want me dead, right?”

“Enough, Loki.” Thor stared his brother down until Loki straightened, spreading his hands as far as he could in surrender. The gesture was more mocking than sincere. “SHIELD knows of this arrangement already. Loki can harm no one,” Thor said, turning back to Jane, “and…”

Jane waited for him to continue, but when the pregnant pause had gone past its due date, she prodded him. “And?”

“And you are…bound together.”

“We’re _what_?” The question came out in a squeak as she glanced at the God of Mischief. His nose was scrunched as if he found the idea as appealing as she did. Which was not even not at all. It was the Not at All to end _all_ Not at Alls.

“Father felt it necessary to ensure Loki’s cooperation.” Thor gave her a wan smile. “Perhaps some good can come of this for you as well. Loki may be able to aid you in your research—if he can be persuaded to use his keen mind for something other than mischief.”

Jane blinked at Thor. Mischief? He called raining terror down on New York City _mischief_? The man needed a dictionary. “How long?” Resignation swept over her like an avalanche of mud.

“As long as needed.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “What if he doesn’t…reform? Is there a set time limit where if he doesn’t change, you take him back? Or am I supposed to just pawn him off to my posterity when I die?” The whole thing felt surreal—discussing the custody of a maniacal god as if he were something between a family heirloom and a child caught in the middle of an ugly divorce.

“I do not know, Jane,” Thor answered. “But there is always wisdom in what my father does.”

Loki threw his head back and shook with silent laughter. Jane suspected he had a very different view of Odin’s wisdom than his brother. She was chagrined to admit her own opinion probably more closely aligned with Loki’s.

Jane rubbed her eyes with a groan. “So, how does this work?”

Thor’s face lit up in a brilliant smile. He set a thick manila envelope on the table. “The Man of Iron has helped me set up a…” he paused as if searching for the correct term, “…trust for my brother, of which you will be the trustee. Father has also bequeathed you a monthly stipend for your services in this matter. It is a small consolation, but I hope that it will be of some use to you.”

Jane opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. There was a letter from Pepper Potts explaining that some paperwork needed to be signed and directions on where to file it. A note from Tony Stark was scrawled at the bottom in nearly illegible handwriting. He wrote that she ought to tell them all to go to hell and send Loki over for him and “the green rage-monster” to deal with. Jane bit back a grin.

She had to swallow down a gasp a moment later when she turned the page. Could you put that much money into a trust? Clearly Asgardians had no clue about Earth’s monetary system. Her stomach did a nervous flutter as she skimmed through the legalese to where the details of her monthly stipend were laid out.

When she muttered a surprised explicative, Thor frowned. “Will this not suffice?”

Jane looked up at him. “This is…more than enough.” Ten thousand dollars a month. Ten freaking thousand dollars a _month_! And that was just for her. She didn’t have to use any of it to clothe and feed Loki, the world’s newest and wealthiest trust fund baby. The desperately underfunded scientist in her began wringing her hands with glee.

“All is well, then.” Thor stood, appearing visibly relieved. “I am sorry that you must endure this, Jane. I would that his care had been given to me, but I have failed to make him see reason.” He leaned over the table and brushed the hair from her cheek. “If you can succeed where others have not, the family of Odin will forever be in your debt.”

Jane would have liked to enjoy his intimate caress, but she couldn’t ignore Loki who was rolling his eyes so hard she thought he might strain something.

Thor turned to his brother then, and Jane’s heart pounded as he began removing Loki’s restraints. Once free of the shackles and muzzle, the God of Lies worked his jaw and rubbed at his wrists. He glanced at Jane and a dark grin stretched his lips. In response, she rose to her full height—which was not very high—to hide just how scared that simple look had made her.

“Loki,” Thor said, “you understand that you must always remain at Jane’s side or—”

“Or agony beyond my wildest imaging, as I recall.” Loki waved a dismissive hand and began pacing around the lab.

“And any harm you mete out on others,” Thor continued, “will be visited upon you a hundredfold.”

Loki peered over his shoulder, his smile turning feral. “That may not be a sufficient deterrent.”

“Loki,” Thor growled, his hand twitching at his side. “You will behave yourself.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed into slits, and for a minute, Jane thought that _UFC: Asgardian Style_ was about to commence in her poor little lab with all of the equipment she had painstakingly built herself. Not for the first time today, she thought her life might have been better off if she had never ran into Thor, God of Abs.

Just as the tension was about to come to a head, Loki let out a soft laugh and raised his hands. “Of course. I’m certain Jane Foster will make me as soft as she’s made you.” His deep voice was sprinkled with just a dash of bitterness and a dollop of hatred.

Jane grimaced and edged around the table toward Thor. Great. Just great. Not only did she have to babysit one of Earth’s biggest supervillains, but apparently he already had some kind of bone to pick with her. If she ever met Odin, they were going to have words. And not the nice ones.

Thor ran his fingers through his golden hair with a sigh. “Jane,” he said, gently ushering her aside. “I must take my leave of you. Will you speak with me—outside?”

Before Jane could nod, Loki snorted. “By all means, don’t let me get in the way of your lover’s chat.”

Jane gave him a flat look before turning back to the Thor. “Yeah, outside is probably best.” She followed him out, the old glass doors screeching loudly as they stepped through. Jane made a mental note to oil the hinges—even though she knew she would forget to. She always did.

Thor faced her, looking ridiculously huge and out of place in his cape and armor. A few passers-by gaped at him, but he didn’t notice. “Be wary of his silver tongue,” he warned. “He may not be able to bring you bodily harm, but my brother can be rather adept at spinning lies and half-truths—especially since…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

Jane nodded. “Got it. Anything else? Food allergies? Feeding schedule? Special bedtime? Is he toilet trained?” She wasn’t normally so sarcastic—that was Darcy’s area of expertise—but Jane was still smarting from having Loki forced on her.

Fortunately, Thor took the biting questions in good humor. He laughed and grasped her shoulders. “Jane Foster, you truly are like no other.” Reaching down to pick up Mjölnir where he had left it on the sidewalk, he said, “Will you be all right?”

“Do I have a choice?” Jane shrugged. “I’ll survive, I think.”

Apparently satisfied, Thor stepped out into the street, preparing to fly off. Jane bit her lip, arguing with herself over whether or not to ask the question which had been knocking around in her mind since he appeared on her doorstep.

“Thor, wait!” She jogged over to him.

He looked down at her expectantly and her stomach did a feeble somersault. He really was the perfect specimen of masculinity.

“Um,” she began, feeling a little stupid. “What are we?” He raised a brow.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. That would be too easy,” she muttered under her breath before trying again. “I mean, is there something between you and me?” She hoped he understood because the thought of spelling it out further was its own special brand of mortification.

“Ah, yes.” He smiled but it was a little sheepish. “Is that your wish?”

Jane hadn’t been prepared for that reaction and it gave her pause. She had spent the last year waiting on him—not just to reappear, but to define their budding relationship, if there was one at all. Come to think of it, it had been kind of ridiculous to pine after some guy she had barely known three days.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Maybe we should start as friends?”

Thor mulled it over for a minute before answering, “I would be glad to be your friend, Jane.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Farewell.”

Jane sucked her cheeks in attempt to keep a goofy smile off her face. “Bye,” she said shyly as she backed away. Good grief, what was it about this man that had her tittering like a school girl?

He swung his hammer around and then shot off like a rocket, stirring the leaves and street debris up in his wake. She stared after his disappearing figure for as long as she could as she wasn’t exactly anxious to return to what awaited her inside.

What was she going to do with Loki? Hopefully he would be brooding and withdrawn and leave her be.

Taking a deep breath, she went back inside. The tall, thin bad guy was examining a computer mouse, rolling a slender finger over the red light on the bottom.

“I assume,” he said, not looking up, “your farewell with my so-called brother was filled with confessions of undying love and promises he doesn’t intend to keep.”

So much for brooding and withdrawn. Jane pinched the bridge of her nose, her headache in full force again. Now was probably a good time to buy stock in Tylenol. With a sigh, she crossed the room and plucked the mouse from his hands. “I don’t suppose you’re going to behave like a good boy so you can leave as soon as possible?”

He seemed to sincerely consider her suggestion. “The thought had occurred to me, yes.” He picked up Darcy’s very pink iPod and tapped it. “But then I remembered how dearly I despise you—” he brought his eyes to hers, lips curling in a sneer, “—the pitiful mortal who dared to capture the heart of a god whose boots you aren’t worthy to lick, and I wondered why, in the nine realms, would I make any of this easy for you.”

He set down the iPod and towered over her. “This is my promise to you, Jane Foster.” He spat her name as if it were a piece of rotten fruit. “I will make every minute we spend together an intolerable misery. I will have you broken before Thor, begging him to take me back to my prison. I will have you spend the rest of your pathetic life wishing you had never laid eyes on the God of Thunder, nor attempted to redeem the God of Mischief.”

Jane swallowed thickly but stayed rooted to the spot against her every instinct screaming for her to run far and fast. “You can’t hurt me.” She mentally congratulated herself for managing to keep her voice steady.

Loki snorted. “But I know _so_ many ways of being injurious—nearly all of which require no physical contact.” He grabbed her wrist. “However, even that might be worth the consequences.” Before Jane could protest, he gave her forearm a hard pinch.

“Ow!” She jerked away from him. A small red, purplish bruise was already blossoming on her skin. That horrible man!

She spun back to face him, but her angry invectives died in her throat when she saw his already too-pale features turn ashen. His eyes rolled upward as he cradled an arm and emitted a soft keening sound—like a dying whale under water. Jane wanted to be smug about his injury—even reminding herself this was not even close to what the psycho deserved—but apparently her soft-hearted tendencies extended to evil people as well. The revelation made her as far from happy as Loki was from sanity.

“That answers that question.” He pulled up the sleeve of his frayed tunic with a groan and Jane shuddered at the slightly off appearance of his arm. That was definitely broken.

He laid his other hand over the break, squeezing his eyes shut. He muttered something unintelligible under his breath—some kind of chant. Jane held her breath with fear and anticipation as he healed himself, or tried to. After a minute, he cursed.

“Give me your arm,” he said, reaching for her. Jane backed away.

“Not on your life!”

Loki glowered at her. “I’m not going to harm you again. Now _give me your arm!_”

She hesitated for a breath before finally yielding. Loki pressed his good hand over the bruise and repeated the incantation from before. Cold tingles fanned out across her skin from beneath his palm, prickling her with goosebumps. The air around her arm seemed to crackle with electricity. When she gasped, Loki lifted his hand. The bruise was gone, and he looked downright murderous.

“And so I cannot heal myself,” he said. “Will the unpleasant surprises never cease?”

This little restriction was pretty logical when Jane considered it. What would be the point of turning the harm Loki did to others on himself if he could easily heal his own injuries afterward? Well played there, Odin. Of course, that didn’t mean she was going to forgive the Asgardian king for saddling her with his castoff criminal of a son.

“Come on,” Jane said, going to her desk to grab her keys. “Let’s get you to the hospital.” 


	2. Wreaking Havoc is Fun to Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was written as a drabble (500 words or less) challenge. I had to include the words Wii, auditorium, and zoo.

After Loki’s seventeenth trip to the hospital for yet another failed attempt to injure Jane (kill her), he had gone surly. And quiet. He’d followed her wherever she went like an angry little boy, but he’d been reasonably well-behaved. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could make trouble in other ways.

Until today.

Today, when she felt safe enough to cart him with her to a science conference. A science conference where she’d been asked to present her findings related to practical applications of the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory. A presentation meant to help her claw out of obscurity and into the world of legitimate science.

And Loki had ruined it all.

Darcy sat beside her in the auditorium, snapping her gum as they watched the zoo before them. Scientists were yelling at one another, passing dollar bills to Loki while two of the most prominent researchers in the field of astrophysics readied themselves for the stand-off of the century. Jane didn’t want to think about where Loki had acquired the Wii console, nor how he’d managed to hook it up to the projector screen. And how he’d convinced everyone that an epic Guitar Hero battle would be better than listening to Jane’s lecture.

“So,” Darcy said, “I’m guessing that this is only the beginning of Fun Times with Mr. Crazypants.”

Jane buried her face in her hands and groaned. 


	3. Mischief Managed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki offers Jane a day without mischief if she’ll let her hair down for one night.

“If you’re gonna be stuck here all night,” Darcy yelled over the bass-heavy music, “you might as well live it up, boss lady.” She knocked back her shot of tequila and bit into a lemon wedge. “Get drunk. Dance. Have fun. You _do_ know what having fun is?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course I know what having fun is.” She pointed to the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor. Loki was at the center of the throng, towering over the mortals with his head thrown back in laughter. In his very-fitted white button down shirt and charcoal slacks, he looked ridiculously out of place among the sea of graphic t-shirts and jeans. “That is definitely _not_ my idea of fun.”

“Oh right. Your idea of fun is staring at star charts for hours until you find a new quasar or something.” Darcy hopped down from the barstool. “You know, maybe he’s right. If you were a pie chart, you’d be like this itsy-bitsy slice of sleep and the rest would be work.”

“You so did not just take the side of the Supervillain!” Jane hissed, glancing in the bad guy’s direction again. He gyrated with the groupies hanging all over him, wearing a predatory grin on his unfairly handsome face. If it weren’t for Odin’s curse preventing him from harming anyone, Loki would probably just as easily kill the girls as dance with them.

At least, that’s what he told Jane he would prefer to do to her if he could. After a protracted dose of torture, of course.

But then again, that particular threat had gotten old several weeks ago. He uttered it more by rote anymore than with real heat. Jane was reminded of her favorite childhood book where every night the Dread Pirate Roberts told Westley he’d probably kill him in the morning. Which he never did. Not that she believed her time with Loki would end with him giving her the keys to the proverbial kingdom, but his hateful epithet no longer frightened her. As much.

“Hellooooo!” Darcy shook a hand in front of Jane’s face. “Please don’t tell me you were doing calculations in your head just now. Because he’s totally not going to keep up his end of the bargain if he figures out you’re still working. And I really, _really_ need a break from Mr. Evil’s practical jokes. He rigged my iPod so it only plays cats in heat. It’s not as sexy as it sounds.”

“Fine.” Jane sighed in defeat. “No work, I promise.” She picked up her shot of tequila, and grimacing, downed it. It burned so much. “There,” she coughed out. “Happy?”

Darcy planted her hands on her hips. “You have to dance, too.”

“Only after I’ve had a few more of these.” Jane held up her empty shot glass.

“Well, I guess you better get cracking,” Darcy said, waving the bartender over. “Because I think Complicated Villain’s spidey sense is tingling.”

Darcy was right. Loki was staring straight at Jane, smirking even as he continued to bump and grind. He had chosen the underground club for the sole reason that it was way outside of Jane’s comfort zone.

Jane hastily grabbed a drink that Darcy had just procured and gulped it down. The liquid torched her throat and she hacked out what felt like fire. Loki grinned wider, the jerk. Another glass was in her hand before she could ask for it, and glaring back at him, she drank that one in a single swallow too. Tears blurred her vision, but she wasn’t about to lose this contest of wills.

“Another one!” she demanded through a cough.

“Another!” Darcy yelled in a deep, growly voice.

A pang shot through Jane’s chest as she thought of Thor smashing a mug against the diner floor. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of the God of Thunder, not since he dumped Loki in her lap and let her know she was stuck with the dark-haired meanie indefinitely. She and Thor had parted on good terms—as friends—but with the alcohol seeping into veins now, she had a hard time not thinking of what might have been if Loki hadn’t managed to get in the way with that big metal destroyer thingy and then the Battle of Manhattan.

Jane guzzled another shot and slammed it down on the bar. It all came back to Loki, didn’t it? Everything that had gone south from the moment she met Thor could be blamed on the so-called trickster god. Well, she’d had enough of his antics—playful or otherwise. He had promised her one mischief-free day if she let her hair down tonight, and by Odin, she was going to wrangle it from him if she had to.

She grasped the arm of the nearest guy—a heavily tattooed and pierced young man with spiky hair. “Hey, do you want to dance? Let’s dance.” A nervous giggle bubbled up from her middle, but she swallowed it back down as she dragged him toward the dance floor. Loki watched her with that everpresent smirk, and oh, she wanted so badly to punch him in the nose.

Maybe kicking back four shots in a row was not the best idea when she wasn’t much of a drinker in the first place.

“So, what’s your name!” her companion hollered as they pushed through the crowd.

“Jane!” she yelled back.

He pointed to himself. “Brad!”

She laughed before she could stop herself. “Sorry!”

Brad took it in in good stride. “Not the name you were expecting?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, no! I expected something more like Spike!”

“What can I say?” He shrugged with a grin. “I’m an enigma!”

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t going to be _all_ bad. The smell of sweat and a dozen different body sprays was awful, but at least her dance partner was charming in a “I’m totally metal but my name is Brad” way. She tried to make her body move to the music as best as she could, having been cursed with her dad’s two left feet. Brad grabbed her arm and pulled her into him, and they joined the others in an odd jumping, grinding, flailing type of dancing. It made her think of those anthropology videos she watched in undergrad school about tribal rituals.

Soon, she lost herself to the swirl of music and alcohol. There was no way she would admit it to Loki—or Darcy—but it was kind of nice to just let loose. The last time she had partied was back in college, where she had way too much to drink and ended up throwing up all over her crush when he tried to kiss her. Surprisingly, he had asked her on a date afterward.

A warm body pressed against her back and a hand fell against her hip, guiding her to the rhythm of the bass. She closed her eyes and leaned against her companion, feeling a tad wanton thanks to the tequila. Nope. Not so bad after all.

Until…

“I rather like this unrestrained side of you, Jane.”

Jane’s eyes shot open at Loki’s baritone. She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tight.

“Oh, don’t go,” he murmured against her ear. Tingles dove down her spine as he wrapped his other arm around her torso. “We were having so much fun.”

“Where’s Brad?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Who? The boy of many colors?” Loki leaned over her shoulder, pretending to search the dimly-lit club. “I’ve no idea where he went after I implied that you were here with me.”

Jane scowled. Of course he would chase off the nice tattooed guy. Of course he would ruin any chance she had at a good time. “What about your fan club? Were they too beneath you?”

“Well, yes.” Loki let out a loud, rich laugh. He spun her beneath his arm and brought her back, this time facing him. “Why dance with the drones when I can have the queen?”

Her stomach did frenetic acrobatics as he peered down at her. This was not his typical “I am thinking of all the ways I could make you weep in abject agony” stare. This was more like “It just occurred to me there are other, more mutually pleasurable games with which to torment you.”

It terrified her.

She pushed against Loki, suddenly dizzy from the music, from him. “I can’t.” She ran a hand across her forehead, feeling cold sweat on her skin. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Do hurry back.” He relinquished his grip on her. “You never know what kind of nefarious deeds I might get up to in your absence.”

Jane stumbled through the crowd with Loki’s laughter trailing behind her. Why did he have to be so…so…? Ugh! She let out a frustrated scream as she stalked toward the back of the club.

The door’s hinges creaked as she walked into the restroom and squinted at the bright light. A few gals were fixing their makeup and jabbering about some guy or another. Jane ignored them as she hopped up on the nearest empty section of counter. She just needed some peace and quiet.

“Okay, what the hell was that?”

Which apparently she was not going to get.

Jane groaned. Her assistant stood before her, hands on hips. “Not now, Darcy.”

“Yes now, Jane.” Darcy paced the bathroom, staring down the other girls who seemed to be listening in. “What were you doing dancing with—” she dropped her voice, “—God of Everything Bad and Nothing Good? I mean, I completely support you getting your groove on for once, but with _him?_”

“Trust me, dancing with him was the last thing I wanted to do.” Jane rubbed her temples. “I think I’m getting a headache.”

“Are you guys,” another voice piped in, “talking about that really hot tall guy with dark hair? Because if you’re not into him—”

Darcy threw up a hand. “I’m sorry, were you invited into this conversation? No. So just back off, okay?” As the girl began to leave, Darcy added, “Oh, and word to the wise. That guy is totally a serial killer. You might not want to go there. Just sayin’.”

The girl shot her a fearful look before exiting the bathroom with her friends.

“Darcy, he’s not a serial killer,” Jane said. “He can’t hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, well the whole psychopathic maniac who destroyed New York with his alien army thing is kinda classified.” Darcy pointed toward the door. “Do you want that chick flinging herself at him?”

Jane let out a heavy sigh as she sagged against the mirror. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that.”

Darcy studied her for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Nope.” Jane gave into the sudden, irrational urge to laugh. “I’m so not okay. I haven’t been okay since Thor dropped Loki off. I can’t get any real work done because I’m constantly putting out his fires. Which, you know, is exactly what he promised me from day one—that I’d be begging Thor to take him back.”

“So why don’t you?”

Jane laughed again. It was a perfectly reasonable question. Why hadn’t she just picked up the Asgardian telephone—aka Heimdall—and told Thor game over. Taking care of Loki was loco and she’d like a refund, thank you very much. But Thor had believed so fervently in her ability to keep Loki in check, she didn’t want to disappoint him. That and the generous monthly stipend provided by Odin would disappear.

“Reasons,” she finally said. “Lots and lots of reasons. I’ve just got to tough it out.”She gave Darcy a weak smile. “At least I get a day with Mr. Mayhem on his best behavior, right?”

Darcy shrugged. “Probably not if you stay in here all night.”

“Probably not,” Jane agreed. “Just a few more minutes of respite before I throw myself back into the den of iniquity.”

“Do you want me to stay or—”

Jane waved her off. “Go. Dance. Have a one-night stand, or whatever it is people with social lives do.”

“You got it, boss lady.” Darcy gave her a jaunty salute.

Then Jane was blessedly alone—for about thirty seconds before another gaggle of women came to use the facilities. She closed her eyes and pretended none of them existed, though it was hard to do with all their gossiping. Some girl named Sarah was apparently “slutting it up” with all the hot guys on the floor. Except for that one super mega sexy guy in a suit who had stopped dancing a while ago. But then, didn’t you hear? Amy’s sister’s best friend saw a guy who looked just like him on America’s Most Wanted or TMZ. Supposedly he was a master criminal. Or a celebrity. Or both.

The chatter didn’t vary much as the groups of gal pals recycled. Sure there would be some commentary on how someone was cheating on somebody, but overall the topic du jour was Loki. Who was he? Was he really on the run from the law? Jane laughed when one of the girls swore he was a cannibal. No, wait. Wasn’t he in that new action flick coming out?

She couldn’t even escape him in the lady’s room.

“Hey, aren’t you here with him?” Jane opened her eyes to find six more gazing back at her. The girls wore heavy make-up in a poor attempt to hide their underage-ness. It was hilarious that they’d been going into graphic detail about what they’d like to do with a man who could have been their great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great—Jane didn’t know how many greats—grandfather. Murderous, world domination tendencies aside.

“Yes, she is.”

Oh, fabulous. She _literally_ couldn’t escape him in the lady’s room.

The three girls sucked in a collective breath as the man in question stepped fully into the bathroom. He gave them a cursory glance with a hint of disdain before dismissing them. “Leave us.”

The girls hesitated only a breath before making a hasty getaway. A toilet flushed in one of the stalls and another gal came bursting out, zipping her pants as she ran off. Without pausing to wash up. How uncouth. Jane giggled at her own joke. The alcohol was most definitely having an effect on her.

Loki planted his hands on the counter on either side of her legs, entirely too close for comfort. How was it that he managed to smell like the air before a winter storm when everyone else smelled like cheap cologne and deodorant?

“Jane Foster,” he said with a stern look, “You are doing a very poor job of keeping up your end of the bargain. Hiding out in a restroom does not constitute fun.”

“Depends on what you’re doing in the restroom,” she blurted out. Thank you, Señor Tequila.

He smiled then, his tongue flicking across his bottom lip as his gaze dipped briefly south. “True, but I doubt you were having that kind of fun.” His grin widened at the blush creeping over her cheeks. “Fortunately for you, I’m willing to amend our agreement.”

Jane snorted. “Oh, _fortunately_.” This ought to be good.

“Mmm.” Loki nodded. “I offer you more than one day of good behavior. Perhaps several.”

Jane stared at him for a moment, not quite sure she’d heard him correctly, and then burst into a fit of laughter. “Riiight. Is that even physically possible for you?”

“You’ve no idea what I’m capable of.” There was that look again—the one that had her middle doing queasy somersaults. Daily death threats she could handle. But this? She didn’t know what to do with this.

“What do you want in return?” If he said clubbing every night of the week, she was definitely out.

Loki shrugged. “Just insignificant little thing.” He leaned forward, making the air thick with his presence. “A kiss.”

Jane blinked, unable to compute his words. “You want a _kiss_? From me?”

“No, I want a kiss from that insipid assistant of yours.” He gave her a sardonic look. “Of course from you, Jane.”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes. What did he have up his sleeves?

His lips curled in his signature diabolical grin. “Because Thor would despise it. Because you would despise that you liked it.”

“Like it? Pfft.” Jane shook her head. Never happen. “And how many well-behaved Loki days would I get for this kiss?” The question left her mouth before her brain could abort. She wasn’t seriously considering locking lips with the Big Bad from Asgard. Was she?

“That would depend on the kiss, wouldn’t it?” Ugh. Why did he have to smile like that? Like she couldn’t him give a good enough kiss to warrant several days of him behaving like a good boy.

Suddenly, Jane wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirky, smarmy look off his face. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him close and planted her lips on his. At first he didn’t respond, and she felt a little smug. Who’s the bad kisser now, huh?

And then, he was into it, moving his mouth against hers as if he had taken an advanced course in making out and gotten the top grade. This was turning out to be a really, really bad idea. Because she didn’t want to stop. Ever. Especially when he nudged her knees apart and tugged her against the flat planes of his abdomen. Especially when he growled after she raked her teeth across his bottom lip.

But when his long fingers slipped under her blouse and began cinching it up, she realized she was not nearly drunk enough for _that_. She shoved him back, abruptly breaking off the kiss as he made unintelligible noises in protest. He looked down at her with wide eyes and was blessedly speechless for the first time since she’d known him.

“That’s a week and not a day less,” she said, silently congratulating herself for having a steady voice. “Plus the previously agreed upon day. And you have to actually help me in the lab. If you don’t, I swear to the All-Father, I will shave your head while you sleep.”

She slid off the counter and, despite every bone in her body having become melted goo, sauntered out of the bathroom as if she’d just bested an ancient deity at his own game. Which she had. Sort of.

He’d been right, though. She liked that kiss—way too much.

She was so going to regret this later. 


	4. Trouble Lurking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane wants to pretend she never traded a drunken make-out session for a week’s reprieve from Loki’s mischief. Fat chance of that happening, though.

She shouldn’t have kissed him.

Granted, Loki had kept his end of the deal by giving her a (relatively) mischief-free week and helping out (kind of) in the lab. Jane got more work done in the last seven days than she had in the three months since he had been tossed into her proverbial lap. She should have been happy. Really.

_Darcy_ was happy. Her beloved iPod didn’t play the ear-splitting screeches of mating felines at random intervals. Her coffee didn’t stay bitter no matter how much sugar and cream she added. She stopped tripping over air. And even better, she got to make Loki do all the menial labor while she sat back and played Candy Crush on her phone. Loki, in turn, gave the brunette murderous glares, and Jane was pretty sure that once his self-imposed prank moratorium was lifted, Darcy was going to bear the brunt of his pent-up misbehavior.

For her part, Darcy thought it was hilarious how Jane managed to secure this bargain with Loki. That night, Jane had resolved to never tell anyone what she had done. The pact lasted as long as it took Darcy to ask Jane why she was the color of a tomato—a question posed roughly five minutes after Jane had left the bathroom.

“You did _what?_” Darcy had exclaimed while dragging Jane to a quiet-ish corner of the club. “You _kissed_ him?! Was it any good?”

Jane groaned. “That’s not the point!”

“No, I wanna know. I mean, he’s actually pretty hot—if you ignore the fact that he’s totally insane and evil.”

“Darcy—”

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it at least once.” Darcy waggled her eyebrows. “I know I have.”

“Oh, my _god_, Darcy!” Jane hissed with a nervous glance to the side, worried that Loki was skulking nearby. Fortunately he was out of earshot, sitting alone at one of the tables and nursing a drink with a pensive expression. As if sensing her gaze, he looked at her, raising his glass with a knowing half-smile.

“Damn,” Darcy murmured next to her. “It must have been really good if he’s grinning at you like that.”

Jane rubbed her hand across her eyes, silently kicking herself for having done something so stupid. She continued to kick herself throughout the rest of the week. By all appearances, Loki _was_ better behaved. In truth, however, he had merely discovered new ways to get under her skin.

Her phone went off while she was digging through a box on the floor. She almost ignored it, but then pulled it out on the off chance that it was anyone other than Loki. Which, of course, it wasn’t.

_I see London. I see France. I see Jane Foster’s underpants. _

She sighed, wishing she had steered him away from getting an iPhone and learning to text. Where had he even heard that grammar school insult? Flustered, she hiked up her low-rise jeans and yanked the hem of her shirt down. Across the lab, Loki looked every bit the innocent worker bee as he catalogued the raw data collected during last night’s foray in the desert. There wasn’t even a hint of a smirk on his pale face.

Jane ground her teeth and turned back to her work, only to have her phone go off again.

_Lavender, really? Is it a matching set? _

She snapped her head up. Loki continued pecking away at the computer as if he hadn’t just sent her a crass message. She didn’t have to wonder where he learned about matching underwear. She was certain he had received a thorough education on that particular subject during his various trysts in these last few months. Heaving another sigh, she returned his text.

_Stop it or I’m going to block your number. _

He picked up his phone when it buzzed, read her message, replied, and went back to entering data into the computer—all with a placid expression.

_By all means, block it. I’ll just shout my thoughts across the lab instead. >;) _

There was something inherently wrong with an ancient Viking god using an emoticon. Exasperated, she tapped an answer, jabbing hard at the touchscreen to send it before shoving her phone back in her pocket.

_Whatever. _

The corner of his mouth tipped up in a bare smile at that. Apparently he thought he won that round. That was his reigning assumption whenever Jane threw her hands in the air and stopped fighting him.

Darcy cleared her throat, raising a brow at Jane with a significant glance in Loki’s direction. Jane gave her assistant a flat expression followed by an exaggerated eye roll—the universal communication for “Don’t even ask.” Darcy shrugged and delved back into her game.

_I want to see for myself. Will you show me later?_

It took Jane a flustered minute to realize he was referring to her undergarments—_again_. She was even more infuriated by how his anything-but-innocent request drummed up the unwelcome memory of his long fingers trailing up her skin as he began to lift her blouse during their drunken make-out session. Just before she put the brakes on the entire idiotic affair. Thank heavens for small miracles.

_Over my dead body. _

The only reaction he gave to her reply was a raised brow.

_I prefer you very much alive when I make a thorough examination of your dressing methods, but if you insist… _

What was wrong with the world that she was actually relieved, just the tiniest bit, that he’d gone back to threatening her life? She pretended not to hear the alert when she received another text. That went swimmingly for all of two ignored messages, after which Loki decided to take his badgering to a new level.

“Miss Lewis,” he said in a bland voice as he continued to work, “have I told you of the new ideas I have—of things I’d like to do to Jane?”

Darcy looked torn between loyalty to her boss and morbid curiosity. Jane silently prayed that the former would win out in the end. Unfortunately, it didn’t. “New ideas?”

Loki made a disinterested noise of agreement. “Shall I elaborate in explicit detail?”

Jane knocked over a pile of notebooks in a desperate sprint across the room. “Don’t listen to him, Darcy!” She winced at the obvious distress in her tone and tried to cover it up with a nonchalant smile. “I mean, it’s just going be some variation of the same old song and dance of torture and slow, painful death, right?”

Though Loki kept his face straight, he couldn’t entirely conceal the shameless mirth dancing in his eyes. “Actually—”

Jane cut him off by grabbing his shirtsleeve and yanking him from his seat. “Actually, this is a conversation we should probably have in private.” She gave him a shove toward the hallway in the back of the lab.

“Yes, let’s.” He infused the two words with so much innuendo that Jane thought she might be incinerated on the spot from blushing so hard.

As she dragged Loki toward the tiny office she used as a storage room, she glanced at Darcy. “I’ll be just a minute.”

“You know, I could go home,” Darcy hollered back. “I mean, if you guys are going to be a while.”

“How very perceptive of you, Miss Lewis,” Loki returned over his shoulder with a wink. “You never know how long Mummy and Daddy are going to be.”

Jane suddenly understood how an unassuming person might snap and murder everyone they worked with. She pointed at Darcy. “You stay put.”

“And you—” she rounded on Loki, “—get in there!”

He obeyed, entering the room filled with haphazard stacks of boxes, and leaned against the sole piece of furniture—an old Formica desk. “I like it when you’re forceful,” he said as she closed the door. “It does such wonderful things to me.”

“For the love of all things sane, enough already!” She ran a hand over face with a groan. “I’m going to have to have a sexual harassment seminar and I only have two employees!”

“One,” Loki corrected, crossing his arms with a smug look. “I don’t work for you.”

“You do for the rest of the day.” She sagged against the door, worn out by his never-ending shenanigans. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s it going to take to stop your inappropriate advances?”

She did not like the feral smile that stretched across his lips. Not in the least. And she certainly didn’t care for the answering warmth flaring to life in her middle.

“I want a haircut,” he said.

She blinked several times, thinking she had misheard him. “A haircut. You’re kidding.”

“Not at all.” He rose from the desk, his expression sobering. “I want a haircut.”

Apparently he wasn’t joking. She was mildly disappointed that his request was so innocuous. Not that she was hoping for something salacious, it was just at odds with his current modus operandi. She spread her hands in defeat. “Fine. We’ll go to the barber’s after work.”

He shook his head. “No. There is a salon on Fifth Avenue I’d prefer to use.”

“New York. Of course.” Jane looked heavenward with a humorless laugh. Why had she expected anything less? He’d been more than happy to make lavish use of the exorbitant trust fund Odin had set up for his care. Jane tried to rein in his tendency toward decadence as best as she could, but if this would end the constant stream of double entendres directed at her, then so be it.

She sighed. “Everything is already set up.” It wasn’t a question. When he set his mind on something, hell would freeze over twice before he would relent. “When do we leave?”

“Now.” He gave her that closed-mouth self-satisfied grin she had come to despise. “I’ve taken the liberty of having your things packed.”

“I _really_ don’t like you.” She didn’t want to think about what things of hers he deemed necessary for this ridiculous trip.

“So you keep saying.” He grasped the doorknob, but used his other arm to cage her when she tried to step out of his way. “Oh, and to answer your question…” He leaned forward, lips grazing the shell of her ear as he murmured, “I’m sure you can think of some incentive to inspire me to stop behaving so very badly. Help me, dear Jane. Help me repent of my wicked ways.”

Jane’s eyes fluttered close as she swallowed back the gasp bubbling up her throat. He was mere centimeters away, smelling like crisp, wintery air mingled with something distinctly masculine, and for a frightening heartbeat, she almost turned her head to meet his lips with her own.

“I knew kissing you was a bad idea,” she breathed, unable to hide the effect his provocative statement had on her.

He drew back, wearing a smirk on his stupidly handsome face. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because,” she said, her voice growing stronger with each word, “clearly you can’t handle it.”

His eyebrows climbed his forehead as if she’d just said something ludicrous—which she probably had. “Me?”

There was no going back now. “Well, yes.” She imitated his flippant manner. “You’re practically begging for another round.”

His mouth fell open, but no sound came out, and Jane took the opportunity to wrench the door handle from him.

“Don’t we have a plane to catch?” she asked, giving him a gentle push so she could open the door and stroll out of the office as the victor of this round of verbal chess.

As she attempted to cross the threshold in triumph, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into him. “You think you’re so very clever, Jane Foster,” he said, “but your proud little display doesn’t fool me. You’ve already given away the lie.”

His hand snaked from her torso to her hip and down the front of her thigh. Her breath hitched and she hated herself for it.

"Yes, just like that.” He made an appreciative sound that sent a thrill of heat to all the wrong places.

He stepped around her and back into the lab before she could form a protest. Seconds later, her phone beeped.

_I still want to know if it’s a matching set. _

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Jane stormed out of the office and made a beeline for Loki. “Yes. _Okay_.” she said through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest. “You got me. Against all rationality and self-respect, I’ll admit that I do find you physically attractive.”

“I think maybe I should go,” Darcy interjected.

“Yes,” Loki replied at the same time Jane said, “No!”

Jane stared down her assistant. “Don’t you dare leave me alone with him.” What she feared was not what Loki might do to her—Odin’s curse guaranteed her safety—but what she might do to him. At the moment, disfiguring that pretty face of his felt like a reasonable response to the level of frustration he caused her on a daily basis.

“As I was saying,” she said, turning back to Loki, “maybe it’s been a while since I’ve done…stuff with a guy, but that doesn’t mean I’m like some animal that can’t ignore its baser urges—especially the idiotic ones like wanting to kiss you again. It’s just an involuntary physiological response to…to…_you!_” She gestured wildly toward him as if it were explanation enough.

“Oh yeah, this is really comfortable.” Darcy was looking everywhere but at Jane and Loki. “I’m so glad you’re making me stay for this.”

“Shut up, Darcy! You’re not helping!” Jane shouted in exasperation. There was a tiny part of her which recognized how unfair she was being to her assistant, but it was a whisper compared to the foghorn of her anger at Loki.

Loki, who was uncharacteristically quiet through her tirade.

She plowed forward anyway, albeit a little more sedately. “A simple biological imperative is not going to make me forget who you are and what you’ve done. Mind over matter.” She tapped a finger against her temple. “Oh, and you can forget about that trip to New York. We’re not going anywhere until you prove to me that you can play nice.” The man couldn’t go farther than fifty feet from her without experiencing abject agony, so he was stuck until he met her terms.

He raised a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” She pointed to the desk where he’d been working. “Get to it.”

His eyes narrowed, and she recognized that expression. Daily death threats were most certainly back on the menu. Those, she knew how to deal with.

Which was why she was caught completely by surprise when he picked her up as if she were no heavier than a feather pillow and slung her over his shoulder. She battered her fists against his back, screaming at him to put her down as he walked out of the lab.

Darcy chased after them, wielding a tripod. “You let go of Jane, you bad guy!” she yelled, raising the scrap of metal like a baseball bat. “Let her go, right now!”

Loki spun around and Darcy went abruptly silent. Jane couldn’t see what was transpiring, but she could guess that Loki was giving the girl the maniacal look he got when he was feeling stabby.

“He can’t hurt you!” Jane shouted.

“She’s right,” Loki agreed. “I can’t hurt you. But I can promise to leave your beloved music device alone indefinitely—_if_ you walk back inside of the lab this very instant. If you don’t…”

Jane heard the creak of the door opening and panicked. “Darcy!”

“But it’s my iPod, dude! I just got it working right again with my playlists and everything! It’s not like he can hurt you, either!”

“You just made a deal with the devil, you Satanist!”

The only answer Jane received was the sound of the lab door shutting. Loki wasted no time swinging back around and heading down the sidewalk. Jane struggled against him, keenly aware of how futile her kicks and punches were. His grip was an iron vise, though he was careful not to handle her too roughly lest he trigger Odin’s curse. Trepidation churned her stomach when his long strides took them more than fifty feet from the lab.

Oh, no. He’d found a way around part of Odin’s spell. How much longer before he discovered a loophole in the other half?

The click of a door latch drew her attention away from that disturbing thought, and in a swirl of vertigo, she was dumped into the passenger seat of a car—her car. Loki slammed the door before she could slip back out. He was on the other side of the vehicle and in the driver’s seat with inhuman speed, and she watched in horror as he engaged the locks with a mere flick of his wrist.

“That went rather well,” he said to her with a boyish grin. It was unsettling how disarming he could be when it suited him—like one of those little poison dart frogs that looked cute until you touched them and then excruciating death. “I’m disappointed that I hadn’t thought of it sooner.”

He turned the ignition—without a key—and put the car into gear. When had he learned to drive? Jane fumbled the seatbelt as she frantically buckled herself in.

Loki laughed. “I can’t bring you to any physical harm—even indirectly. You know that. Or have you forgotten my little experiments during the first month of my internment here?” He glanced at her as he floored the gas pedal. “Though, I do like this fear in your eyes. It’s a pity there isn’t a real cause for it.”

Jane did recall all his failed attempts to injure her in those early days, and the repeated trips to the hospital for him because of it, but the memories did little to quell her swelling apprehension now.

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked. “Tie me up and cart me around wherever you want to go? Keep me locked in the closet while you do whatever the hell you want?”

His brows lifted as he gave her an appraising look. “Why Jane, that’s a truly devious plan.” He flashed his teeth in a predatory smile. “And here I thought I was having absolutely no influence on you. I’m so terribly proud.”

“You’re not having an influence on me,” she said. “I just know how you tick.”

“Perhaps.” He cocked his head in a casual shrug. “Or perhaps you severely underestimate my desire for a proper haircut.”

“What is the deal with this haircut?” She noticed he’d taken the turn off for the small municipal airport just outside of Puente Antiguo. “Do you have a date?”

His lips quirked in an enigmatic grin. “Jealous?”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes, though she felt a twinge of something unpleasant at the thought of him in the company of yet another woman. She brushed it off as annoyance for the inconvenience this impending rendezvous was already causing her. Definitely _not_ jealousy.

He didn’t expound further, and she refused to beg him to explain himself—which was likely what he wanted anyway. Tense silence drifted between them as he was waved through the gate and drove toward his private hanger. Jane tried very hard not to wonder how many more kidnappings she would endure in the future, all while her hard-earned research collected dust.

Just when she thought he couldn’t make her life any more miserable.

She grimaced. Maybe it was time to ask Thor to take his brother back. The monthly stipend from Odin was worthless if she could never step foot in her lab again.

Loki parked the car inside the hanger near a sleek black jet—a recent acquisition of his. Jane never ceased to be amazed at what one could purchase online when money was no object. A smartly dressed flight attendant and a pilot with his hat tucked under his arm stood at the base of the mobile stairwell.

Jane folded her arms in stubborn rebellion as Loki turned toward her and asked, “Are you coming, or will I be forced to take drastic measures again?”

She glared back at him. “That’s not much of a choice.”

He inclined his head in agreement as he opened his door. “Freedom is such a rare commodity after one crosses the Allfather, wouldn’t you agree?”

She frowned. “What do you mean by that?” But he was already outside, exchanging words with the pilot. She scrambled out of the car after him, forgetting that he couldn’t go anywhere without her instead of the other way around.

She caught up to him just as he said to the pilot, “Be prepared for further instructions.” The other man gave him a curt nod, and both he and the flight attendant climbed the steps.

“Further instructions?” Jane asked, anxiety swirling in her middle again as they boarded the aircraft.

Loki settled in one of the plush leather seats and gave her a Cheshire-like grin. “Worried that I have some nefarious design up my sleeve?”

She sat across from him, leveling a flat look in his direction. “You’re telling me you don’t?”

“I’m wounded that you always think so little of me.” He feigned a pained expression.

Jane snorted. “You’ve always earned it.”

He let out a soft, dry laugh. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Charm, right.” She shook her head with a deep sigh. “Are you going to let me in on your nefarious design, or is it a surprise?” She kept her tone light, hoping that her apparent lack of concern would inspire him to open up. Reverse psychology worked on him sometimes. Well, almost never, but it was worth a try.

He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his index finger across his lips as his eyes glided over her in a chill-inducing perusal. The intercom crackled with the pilot’s announcement that they were clear for takeoff. Within minutes, the engines whined and the plane accelerated. Despite her frayed nerves, Jane still enjoyed the brief rush of euphoria that coursed through her veins when the craft took to the skies. She loved flying—even under duress, it turned out.

“Do you ever ask yourself why Odin chose to bind me to you rather than to one of those wretched Avengers?”

Jane glanced at Loki, brow furrowed. The question seemed deceptively offhand—as though he was merely making small talk—but he never said or did anything without purpose. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know where this rabbit hole would lead.

“What makes _you_ the logical choice for rehabilitating the wayward son, I wonder,” he went on, pale gaze searching her face. “Could it be that he sought to bind you as well?”

“Bind me?” Ridiculous. “Why would he want to bind me?”

“I can only speculate.” He shrugged. “Perhaps because you had the gall to steal Thor’s affection—you, a mortal unworthy of the halls of the Realm Eternal. You’re as much a threat to the line of succession as I have ever been.”

She swallowed the thick lump building in her throat. This was another one of his ploys, she told herself. Spinning lies with just enough truth to be hurtful. “Thor would never agree to—”

“He didn’t,” Loki cut her off. There was an edge to his voice as there often was when he spoke of his brother. “But I doubt that witless oaf is able to appreciate the full implications of what his father has done. With this curse, Odin has managed to subdue two of his enemies at once. It’s quite an elegant solution, and I can almost admire him for it.”

“No,” she breathed. His allegation made a queasy sort of sense, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that Odin—father of sweet, kind Thor—would be so heartless. “You’re twisting things.”

Loki raised a brow. “Am I?” He leaned forward, long legs brushing against hers. “Have you forgotten who reared me? From which parent do you think I learned the art of scheming and manipulation, Jane?” He gave her a cold smile. “I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t my mother.”

Bile made sickly somersaults in her stomach. He was lying. He had to be. And yet, she couldn’t deny how well it all fit together. “What’s the point of this, Loki? Is this part of your old threat to make my life miserable? To have me begging Thor to take you back to Asgard?”

“Hardly,” he said. “Once I realized that you are as imprisoned by Odin as I… Well, let’s just say that I’ve developed a certain affinity for you.” He traced a languid design on her knee, letting her know exactly what he meant by _affinity_. “I offer you an alliance of sorts, in defiance of our common adversary.”

She should have moved her leg away from his unsolicited touch, but she didn’t. “Alliance?”

“Hm, yes.” He licked his lips, fingers migrating just a breath above her knee. “You wish to create your own Bifröst, and I’ve long since grown bored of this meager world. I believe we might be able to accommodate one another.”

“You’d still be cursed,” she replied, mildly distracted by his hand. “You couldn’t leave without taking me with you.”

He raised a brow with a sardonic twist of his mouth. “Are you saying that you don’t yearn to see the nine realms and beyond? I can be a very _generous_ companion when I choose to be.”

An involuntary flush swept over her at the promise in his words. She jerked her leg away from those nimble fingers, embarrassed that she was seriously entertaining his offer—_all_ of it. She really, _really_ shouldn’t have kissed him. “So, you’ll help me build a Bifröst if I travel with you? That’s the deal?”

“Not precisely.” Impish amusement crinkled in his eyes. “You benefit far more than I on both counts, as I will be teaching you magic and giving you a tour of the wonders that Yggdrasil has to offer. All while I’m to be on my best behavior—well, _better_ behavior.” He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I require a different sort of compensation for my sacrifices.”

She stared at him for a heartbeat or three as his meaning sank in. And when it did, she started laughing. It wasn’t a “oh, ha, ha, silly villain—as if I would ever agree to that” laugh, but a half-crazed “this is what my life has come to” guffaw. Worse, she didn’t find any of it as distasteful as she ought to have. Which only made her laugh harder. If only young idealistic Jane could see her now—

She let out a startled yelp when she was unceremoniously yanked from her seat right into Loki’s lap. She struggled against him, but his arms held her in place.

“Care to share the joke?” he said, though by his expression, he already knew.

She forced another laugh, hiding how uncomfortable she was straddling his legs—uncomfortable in all the ways that lead to very bad decisions. “You’re bribing me with magic and an interstellar road trip just so you can get laid.”

“On the contrary,” he argued, “I could have my pick of any number of women. I’m merely extending the opportunity for a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.” She rolled her eyes, wishing he’d let her go. It was getting difficult to remember how to breathe with him looking at her like she was his favorite delicacy. “And if I say no thanks?”

“But you won’t, Jane,” he murmured. “Because you want this as much as I do.”

“Liar.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed, his untamed gaze melting her resistance. “I want it _more_.”

He knotted his fingers in her hair and pulled her into a bruising kiss, crushing her bodily against him. This was exponentially more troubling than the experimental lip-lock they shared the week before in a public restroom. This was visceral want, a wildfire of need, and she was lost in the torrent, meeting him passion for passion. He consumed her, and she _wanted_ to be consumed. By him. Specifically.

So much for mind over matter.

He turned his attention to the hollow of her neck and she waved goodbye to all reason. “I take this to mean,” he rumbled against her skin between the unfairly expert ministrations of his lips and tongue, “that you accept my offer.”

No, no, no. Don’t do it, Jane. “Yes.” Dammit.

The intercom dinged—she hadn’t noticed that he’d pressed the button—and Loki said, “We will be following the original flight plan.”

“Yes, sir.”

“There was…” Her words trailed off as he attacked her throat again, hands sliding beneath the hem of her blouse. Linear thought was becoming next to impossible. “There was never a haircut.”

“Never.”

“Where are we really going?” She may or may not have been unbuttoning his shirt as she asked the question.

“Your new—”

Kiss.

“—state-of-the-art—”

Kiss.

“—facilities in—”

Lick.

“—Tromsø.”

Her fingers hesitated on the last button. “Norway?”

He gave her a drowsy nod, his eyes glazed over with desire. “No more questions.” He placed a hand over hers and pressed it against the spot where his almost untucked shirt met the waistband of his slacks. “Keep going.”

She felt the tiniest thrill of wicked satisfaction that he was so affected by her—a mortal unworthy of the halls of Asgard. (He really was a bad influence.) The moment was short-lived, however, lost when he divested her of her own top and made a noise of approval.

“It is a matching set. How gratifying.”

“Shut up already,” she said, glaring down at him, “before I change my mind.”

He smirked. “Oh, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” His mocking laugh changed into a choking groan as her hands went exactly where he’d wanted them to go moments before.

And with that, Jane bought a ticket on the express train to hell. But oh, what a ride it would be. All in the name of science.

Well, _mostly_ in the name of science.

**~FIN~**


End file.
